


Rickon's Luck

by vivilove



Series: Rickon's Tales [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Married Jonsa, Rickon Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Strong, young legs carry him swiftly out of doors. He turns towards the godswood, hesitates, and then turns the other way.The crypts, that’s where he’ll go.How can anyone name him lucky when nearly half his family lies there?
Relationships: Jon Snow & Rickon Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Rickon's Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063277
Comments: 50
Kudos: 190
Collections: Jonsa New Year Drabbles





	Rickon's Luck

**Author's Note:**

> For the drabblefest prompt Luck some more post-canon Stark Family Feels :)

_“Aye, lad! Red hair like me! Like your sister! Kissed by fire! Us gingers are lucky!”_

Strong, young legs carry him swiftly out of doors. He turns towards the godswood, hesitates, and then turns the other way.

The crypts, that’s where he’ll go.

How can anyone name him lucky when nearly half his family lies there?

Rickon’s eyes slowly adjust to the gloom after the bright daylight. His resentment and anger burn every bit as brightly. Mother, Father, Robb. Maester Luwin, Ser Roderick, Farlen, Gage, Harwin, Hullen and Old Nan and everyone else who was taken from him or killed in Kings Landing, in the wars or during the sack of Winterfell.

And then last but not least he’d lost Osha and… _my wolf._ Even _thinking_ his name brings Rickon such a profound sense of loss. _He was part of me._

Sansa understands that pain though perhaps not as deeply, she had Lady for such a short while by comparison. Jon understands the depth of that bond but he still has Ghost.

How can anyone name Rickon Stark lucky?!

But at the foot of his father’s statue, guilt needles him. He was discourteous to a guest, to one of Jon’s good friends. More than discourteous.

The big man had bellowed in shock when Rickon had tipped the contents of his trencher over his own great ginger head. Sansa’s usual queenly composure had deserted her. She’d been red of face and making apologies on his behalf as he’d fled like a little boy, a wild thing.

_That’s all I am, too. A wild thing with no place._

Sansa has little Lya now. Jon married her last year and gave her a babe. She’s so happy and Rickon loves that but he feels sorry for himself as well. Sansa is the closest thing he has to a mother. But what good are troublesome half-wildling brothers when she has a sweet little daughter to sing lullabies to?

Alone with his troubled thoughts, he cannot sit still for long. Sitting makes him feel like weeping and he will not weep! He’s far too old for that.

He finds the sword Sansa had crafted for Robb’s statue. It is not a great sword but, though it is still heavy to Rickon, he can lift it. He swings it, picturing the day when he will be able to wield it like Jon who is the best living swordsman in all of Westeros. (And Rickon will argue with anyone who says otherwise.)

His arm is growing tired when a familiar white shape comes padding towards him.

“Ghost. What are you doing down here?”

“I asked him to help me find you,” a deep voice answers.

Of course, Jon is not far behind his direwolf.

Resigned, Rickon takes a seat at the base of Robb’s statue as Ghost gives him a nuzzle. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Jon takes a seat beside him. “I know you are.”

“Is Tormund angry with me?”

“No, he was laughing before long.”

“Is Sansa angry with me?”

“No, she’s worried about you. She’s not angry. She loves you so much.”

“Are you angry?” He risks a glance at Jon’s face. He doesn’t seem angry with him.

“No, I feel the same as Sansa.”

Relief floods him but also some confusion. Why?

“Rickon…are you angry?”

Oh, that’s why.

He _is_ still angry but not at Tormund. Saying someone with red hair is lucky didn’t earn you shouted words or having a trencher full of food dumped on your head.

“I don’t think I’m lucky. Well, I suppose I am but also not. I’m glad to be home. I’m glad to have you and Sansa and Lya. I’m glad Arya and Bran are alright but…then, I think of all the bad things.”

Jon’s arm is around his shoulders now. His eyes start to grow wet but he knows neither Jon nor Ghost will say anything. It’s fairly dark down here, too.

“There were many bad things, weren’t there? Sansa has red hair but I doubt she thinks it’s made her lucky. People would tell me I was lucky Father…that your father chose to raise me alongside you all. People would tell me I was lucky to survive all the battles I fought, all the horribly dangerous situations I faced. People told me I was lucky to be brought back to life. I didn’t feel all that lucky. They still whisper that I’m lucky that Sansa chose to bring me back home again, that she chose to take me as her husband. I won’t argue with that. I am lucky in that sense.”

“So which is it?”

“There’s good luck and bad, Rickon. In general, I’d say we all experience some of both.”

Rickon mulls that over before asking a question which weighs heavily on a boy of nine. “Am I going to be punished?”

“Do you think you should be?” Jon asks in reply.

Rickon scowls. That sounds like something Sansa would ask, like some trick to make a boy admit fault.

“I’ll go apologize to Tormund.” Jon raises his eyebrows. “And to Sansa and the other guests. I’ll help clean up or whatever I can do to make amends.”

“That’s a good start then. We’ll talk over the rest with your sister later, alright?”

Rickon nods, feeling lighter, almost lucky. _Lucky to have them anyway._

They both stand for it’s time to leave the crypts behind and for Rickon to make his apologies but Jon has a question first.

“What brought you down here? I looked for you in the godswood first.”

“Oh, I’ve not visited them since I happened upon you and Sansa in the hot springs by mistake.”

“Me and San-”

“Honestly, she already has one babe. Are you in such a hurry to put another in her?”

Jon sits back down heavily and covers his face.

“Are you angry, Jon?”

No, he’s laughing.


End file.
